The Gift of the Magiangelo
by Cynlee
Summary: Sacrifice is sometimes needed when one wants to do something special.
1. Chapter 1

_Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope that this two-parter is to your taste, and that your taste is to fluff and nonsense with a healthy dose of "family" stuff._

Many many thanks to Kyabetsu, my invaluable consultant in all things Comic-- and the bestest person for helping out when one is stuck on a plot point!

TMNT are the property of Mirage and Peter Laird. Anything with ™ after it is a real invention that I found on the Internet. The Rat and the Bishamon designs mentioned are also from the Internet from a crafts shop. The O. Henry story this is inspired by and quoted from is in the public domain. I'm making my list and checking it twice, but somehow I don't think Playmates will ever make a large Splinter doll just for me...

"**The Gift of the Magi-angelo" Part One**

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And

sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two

at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and

the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent

imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied.

Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven

cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

O. Henry

Mikey sighed deeply. He stared at the amount of money spread out on his bed and knew that, no matter how much he looked at it, it would not magically increase.

He'd been working hard for April and Casey since October at any chore they felt pity enough to pay him for-- and yet it STILL wasn't enough for Sensei's Christmas present (which he had stubbornly NOT told said employers how much it was going to cost, as he did NOT want charity-- NOT this time!).

Of course they knew it must be a large amount; Mike's dogging them at all hours, looking for any job they were willing to pay him for, had been enough of a hint. April, knowing what the gift was, had warned him that those items were rather costly. But she had no idea of the actual price-- and she couldn't bring herself to ask.

Mike gazed at the printout of the finished item he so wanted to give Splinter for Christmas-- indeed, had COMMISSIONED for Splinter's gift--the image was so worn and creased that much of the glorious detail was fading, but to Michelangelo it glowed as if it were there before him, in the awestruck and grateful hands of his father.

"I have to get this for him! I have to!" he reminded himself. "I ordered it-- I designed it! I need to finish paying for it!"

And he wasn't TOO far off the price of the gift!

He only needed two hundred more dollars, and the gift would be his! HIS to place in Sensei's hands, HIS to astound and amaze his brothers with his thoughtfulness and generosity.

He started remembering how this had all started; back in September he'd seen this perfect quilt block of the Rat while cruising the web for art supplies-- he had been toying with the idea of branching out into other areas-- and he had found this twelve inch by twelve inch quilt square of the Rat from the Zodiac-- it had looked so intriguing-- and THEN the idea had come to him to make his father a quilt-- a quilt of the Rat surrounded by loyal and loving turtle images!

And when he'd come up with the idea, it was so clear in his mind-- but when he'd looked into how to make a quilt, it didn't take long for him to realize that his skills would not be sufficient for such a project.

He then tried to find such an item already made; after all, this WAS the Internet! He had searched every site he could think of, even the auction sites that he loved so much, and it had shocked him that such things were NOT available even in this day and age.

But, with the help of April, he'd found out that such a thing could be ordered; could be commissioned!

"But Mikey, those things are expensive," she had warned. "And if you commission it, it's going to cost even more!"

Mike, however, was not to be dissuaded. Quickly the idea of just how it should look formed in his mind, and he drew out what he wanted-- and it would be perfect!

He ordered the patterns for what was available, and then, utilizing his artistic abilities, he drew out how the quilt should look: the Bishamon (Japanese Treasure design) would be the background. In the center was to be the block of the Rat from the Japanese Zodiac, looking proud and appearing with the God Daikoku's mallet that bestows wealth. He imagined that Splinter must have looked like this, all those years ago-- it was sort of like having Sensei's baby picture!

Then-- he wanted four images of Genbu, the Black Turtle (A/N: one of the "Four Gods" in Chinese and Japanese myth), one for each corner-- but there were none to be found. The woman he had found who who made quilts said that she could make the blocks herself if he designed it, but it would cost extra.

And boy, did it!

Well, this WAS for Sensei! So Mike, after much research, managed to make out FOUR distinct "Turtle Generals" that blended traditional art work and yet could easily be seen to be each one of them as well.

It was TEMPTING to add a fifth turtle (being him again), right next to the rat block, standing guard-- but that would have thrown off the visual balance (as well as opening himself up to much teasing and criticism from his brothers).

Mike gazed at the printout of the result of the woman's weeks of work-- it was gorgeous! It was a thing of beauty; indeed, she had had many offers to buy it while she worked on it in her shop, some of the offers several hundred dollars more than HE was paying, in fact.

But even though he was behind in the final payment, she was an honorable person, and said she would hold it until he could pay for it-- and he still owed her two hundred dollars.

And Christmas was only a week away!

Mike stared again at his money. It was a far cry from two hundred. He watched as Klunk, seeking his attention, pounced upon the pitiful pile of cash and began to play with it.

"I can't ask Casey and April-- I just can't!" he spoke to the cat as he gently rescued a precious twenty from the mighty hunter known as Klunk. "Maybe I should ask the guys? Even though I know they already got him something... I could say it's from all of us!"

But even as he vocalized that to his cat, he knew it would be useless. They each might give him some money, but he was pretty sure that all three together would not have two hundred dollars. They, too, had earned money helping out various "safe" humans. But they had only done so to buy Sensei their gifts. And they had gotten really nice ones, at reasonable prices. He was the one who, while looking to get the bestest gift in the world, had gone far beyond his budget and good sense.

Klunk meowed in reply, as if reading his thoughts, and jumped up onto his precious Mikey, purring in an encouraging way as he sought out his favorite perch on the turtle's shoulder, where he could rub and nuzzle Mike's cheek and chin to his heart's content.

"You're right, Klunkers. It never hurts to try!"

And with new determination, he headed out to Don's new lab. Don was the best with money-- and Mike WAS his favorite brother, after all!

"I'm broke, Mike," were the response to Mike's cheerful "Can I speak with you, my bestest brother?"

Mike considered turning on "the eyes", but held back. Weapons of that nature needed to be used sparingly and at just the right heart-tugging moment.

"Aww, c'mon, Don! I have the perfect gift, and I've been paying and paying on it, but I'm just a little bit short of the final payment!" Mike said, keeping the whine out of his voice and at the same time pleading. "I can say that it's from all of us! And it would be, even though it was all my idea and I've paid MOST of it, and you guys would only be paying a small part of it."

"Skeptical" definitely was the word to describe the look Don favored his brother with.

"How small a part?"

Mike cleared his throat, determined to pull this off.

"Ooooh, only about sixty-five dollars," he responded, keeping his voice as nonchalant as possible (and failing miserably).

Don's snort told the turtle that this had been a fool's mission.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, just the right amount of dejection in his tone. "The eyes" were on standby, waiting for the moment to spring their emotional-wrenching trap on the brainy brother. "I guess I'll be the only one without a gift for Sensei this year."

"The eyes" allowed their potent power to appear just for a brief moment-- a taste of their might, as it were. It'd be nice if Don would cave before Mike had to resort to such a weapon.

"Tell you what," Don said, still eyeing his brother. "Help me out with this bet I have, and I'll cut you in for half of it. It won't be as much as you apparently need, but it'll be more than you have now."

Mike, intrigued, put on his best grin.

"Sure! What is the bet about? Anime? Horror movies? Oh, I know-- Silver Sentry trivia!"

"Nope. We have a bet on what type of useless present you got for Sensei this year."

A stunned silence, followed by righteous indignation.

"I don't get **useless** gifts for Sensei! When have I EVER given a 'useless' gift to sensei?"

Don contemplated Mike as if he were one of his experiments. He needed to say nothing. Mike read his look perfectly.

"Okay, but c'mon, I was six at the time!" he defended himself. "I thought he'd like it!"

"What about the Sauce Dispensing Chopsticks™ from last year?"

"Those were COOL! I can't help it if Sensei had trouble working them. And it was funny when all that sauce squirted out and hit Raph right in the face! Besides, Splinter said they were a very thoughtful gift!"

"I think the exact phrase was 'Who would ever have thought of buying such a gift?'."

"No he didn't. And what about the present I got him the year before, eh?" Mike was ready to fight. How dare his brothers bet on him like some kind of loser!

Now Don laughed aloud.

"The NAP Alarm™? Honestly, Mike, that had to be the dumbest--"

"Splinter thanked me! He said that he needed something to keep him from falling asleep whenever you started talking all technology and science!"

Don shrugged, but the hard look in his eyes showed that the shot had struck home.

"I guess you don't need that money so desperately after all," he mused.

"I guess I don't!" Mike and his injured pride shook the dust from his feet and left the Lab, swearing to never return in his entire lifetime.

_Merrrow_ Klunk purred apologetically in Mike's ear, and the turtle reached up to scratch his loyal kitty behind the ears.

"It's not your fault, Klunkie-wunkie," Mike assured him. "It was a good idea. I just chose the wrong brother. Or rather, brothers," he added, reminding himself that all three were betting on him-- or rather, against him!

He wandered out into the living area with the idea of watching some tv, looking for diversion from his problem, yet his mind stuck on Christmas.

Christmas. He so loved Christmas. But today he could only think of how he could get two hundred dollars in time to get the quilt in time for Christmas.

_"Will you buy my hair?"_

He heard before he even came in view of the bank of tvs that someone was already watching a movie.

"Oh, this is the most romantic movie," he heard April sigh. When he came around the corner he saw that April was on the couch with Splinter and Casey, watching some old black and white movie. Great.

"What's so romantic about it?" Casey wondered, a sour note to his tone of voice. "So far it's been nothin' but a buncha short stories that make no sense. I mean, that bum who wanted ta get arrested couldn't until he decided ta go straight! What kind of romantic story is that?"

April favored Casey with a stern look over the head of Splinter who was (safely or not, depending upon one's point of view) seated between the two.

"Just because it doesn't have car chases, explosions, and wall-to-wall violence doesn't mean you have to be so negative," she huffed. "And I was referring to this particular part of the movie."

Casey (and Mike, safely in the shadows just observing) turned his eyes back to the movie.

"So her sellin' her hair ta buy a present for her husband is romantic? What's romantic about her cuttin' off her hair?" Casey shook his head. "This whole movie's been a waste-- well, except for that one where the crooks kidnap that brat of a kid an' the dad won't take him back until they PAY him ta do it. But the rest don't make no sense."

"Mr. Jones, I gather you are unfamiliar with O. Henry?" Splinter, irritated by the young man's obvious ignorance, nevertheless was polite and respectful. But only just. The man had groused and grumbled and offered editorial comments throughout the entire film.

"Oh Henry™? Naw, I prefer Snickers™ ta Oh Henry™."

"Casey--" April began, but Splinter halted her.

"Never mind, my daughter. Let us enjoy the rest of our movie."

Mike by now was watching the story, as the woman, hair gone and money in hand, buys a chain for her husband's watch.

Must be nice to have hair to sell, he mused as the tale played out before him. The woman bought a beautiful chain for her husband's watch-- he smiled, imagining Raph wearing such a chain to check his old pocket watch that Sensei had given him when they were kids. _"Hold on, guys, gotta check the time,"_ he could almost hear him growl, as he pulled the watch from a special place on his belt, the fancy chain declaring to the world that this was a Ninja with style.

Mike was transfixed. The husband had bought the woman beautiful combs for her hair ("TORTOISE shell? That is SO wrong!") which, naturally, she had sold-- and then it was revealed that HE had sold his watch to buy the combs, so the chain was pretty useless...

"Aw, c'mon! She cuts off her hair and THEN he buys her the combs?" Casey's indignant tone cut into Mike's thoughts. "An' on top of that, he sells his WATCH? What kind of dumb movie--"

"It's ROMANTIC!" April defended. "They each one sacrificed something precious to them for the ONE person who was MORE important to them than 'things'!"

"It's stupid! Why not just get a credit card?"

"Look here, Arnold Casey Jones, I've heard enough from you!" April exploded. "You didn't have to watch, and I warned you this wasn't your kind of film, but nooo! YOU had to join in!"

"I joined in because I'm tryin' ta like what you like!" he snapped back. "Ain't you the one always sayin' 'Casey, just once I wish you'd like what I like'."

"Yes-- LIKE it, not sit there and carp about it the entire time!"

"What's ta like? Five little shows in one movie, and four of them were borin' and made no sense! I mean, even the one with the kid ended strangely!"

"That was the POINT of O. Henry stories! They ended with a twist that caught the reader by surprise!"

"The only surprise is that I made it ta the end of this movie! And HOW was that last one romantic?"

"So, if I cut off MY hair to buy YOU a special gift, you'd think that was stupid, huh?"

Casey favored her with a hard look.

"You plannin' on cuttin' yer hair? How short? I don't want no girlfriend with a boy's haircut!"

April stood up, ready to strike.

"And WHOSE hair is it, I might ask? MINE, that's whose, MR. Jones! YOU have NO say over what I do with my hair!"

"I didn't say I had a say about yer hair, I just said--"

"I heard what you said, and if I want to shave myself bald it's MY business, NOT yours!"

Casey came up off the couch, towering above the redhead, matching her angry glare for angry glare.

"There's no way I'll let you shave yerself bald, April, and that is final!" he shouted, jabbing his finger in the air at her to emphasize his point.

April's eyes went narrow, and then her arm shot out, intercepting the gesturing one of Casey's.

The fight, refereed by Splinter, went on as a thoughtful Michelangelo left the room.

Sell something?

Could I sell something? I mean, sure, I don't have hair, but perhaps I could sell Raph's watch!

I mean, he doesn't really use it...

Naturally, Mikey's good sense took hold of him, reminding him that selling something that wasn't his was not a good idea.

But... could I sell something of mine? Do I even have anything worth two hundred dollars?

Two minutes later he was in his room, gathering his most precious items and laying them out on his bed, prepared to examine each with a critical eye and a monetary motive...

_(to be continued)_


	2. Chapter 2

Ack! This has turned into a three-parter! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Special thanks once again to Kyabetsu, who not only is THE person to go to for all things "Comic", but she is also wise in the way of plausible plot points! I bow to you, Sensei Kyabetsu!

TMNT are the property of Mirage. However, I am raising funds for a hostile take-over. Anyone interested?

"**The Gift of the Magi-angelo" Part Two**

Mike had many toys and comics ("Too many," Sensei would say on those days when he would come into his son's room). Countless hours of scrounging, of scrimping, saving, cajoling, trading, and other activities that were not known to his family had resulted in this vast collection of items.

Each was precious to him; each held a story on its acquisition.

"My Sgt. Guts 'n Glory action figure with remote control tank," he sighed. "I remember when I first saw this in the toy store window... remember, Klunk? That's the day I found you! But I took it out of the box, so I doubt it'd be worth much. People like stuff mint on card you know."

Klunk, curled on Mike's pillow, politely meowed in response.

His eyes roved over more of his toys. Some he had kept sealed as he had become more and more aware of the monetary possibilities of collecting. Thanks to ebay™ he'd sold a few things over the years in order to buy other items...

But would he be able to sell anything and get the money before Christmas? That was the trouble; the Internet was fast, but this close to Christmas, would it be fast enough?

"I'm gonna have to do this with April's help," he finally sighed. "And that means she'll find out how much I need. And knowing her, she'll try to buy it herself, then give it back to me as a gift-- and I don't want that!"

Yet the more he looked at his items, the more he knew that there was nothing on the bed that could possibly, on its own, get him the amount he needed to make two hundred dollars before Christmas. Indeed, unless he put up all the items, there was no chance he'd get enough money.

And there was no guarantee that all items would sell.

"This is hopeless!" he sighed, trying not to give himself up to defeat but failing. "I've got nothing worth that kind of money..."

_Oh, yes you have_, his inner voice whispered. _You **do **have something that is worth that kind of money; your most prized possession of all._

"Klunk is my most prized possession of all," he answered his inner voice. "And my next most prized possession are my 'chukkies! And I can't sell my 'chukkies! Selling those would be illegal here."

_Not Klunk, and not our babies! Stop pretending you don't know what I mean!_

Mike blinked, gazing around as if it would come to him with a shining sign...

Surely not his...

NOT his...

True, he had put out his bestest comics on the bed-- but searching through them again, he realized that he**had** held back one; he had consciously held back one very special precious comic.

One "incredible" comic.

Slowly his feet dragged the rest of him across the room to his special place in his closet, where "The Comic" resided in a sort of shrine, encased in not one but TWO polyethylene sheathes, each 3 mm thick, with a backer board slightly oversized to keep it from bending at the corners or creasing the spine or allowing the cover to roll; kept out of the light and moisture and temperature extremes; protected from smoke (Leo still could not understand why Mike refused candles or incense to be used in his room)-- so precious that, on those RARE occasions when he wanted to look at it, he would insist on carrying it to April's where she had a fairly secure guest room in which he felt safe enough to take it out of its protective covering (and all the while wearing special cotton gloves that he'd had made specially for just such occasions-- to protect from finger marks).

The Comic.

"My-- my--" he whispered.

_...precious? C'mon, Gollum, it's just a comic book!_

"JUST a COMIC Book?" Mike spoke aloud, disbelief at the attitude of his inner voice. "JUST a COMIC Book? THIS is 'The Incredible Hulk', Issue #181-- the first appearance of WOLVERINE!"

_Like I said, a comic book._

"The FIRST FREAKING APPEARANCE of WOLVERINE!!"

_It's worth a few dollars then._

"Wol. Ver. Ine."

_So... what you're saying is, you have some sort of emotional attachment to this?_

"Attachment? It's my heart! My soul! My-- My--"

_... precious?_

Mike, with reverent hands, carried his most sacred comic to his desk, and carefully placed it on the quickly cleaned surface.

"It's in Very Fine condition," he nearly whimpered. "It still has the Marvel Value Stamp! You'd almost swear it was just printed recently..."

And Mike gave himself up to misery.

He'd had it for quite some time. Ever since that day he'd helped April carry in a bunch of items she'd bought at an estate sale... including...

"**Lot seventeen: This steamer trunk: 1900s, brass handles, locked, keys unknown. Full of something heavy. It and two dressers, a lamp, and four boxes of miscellanea. Let's start the bidding at ten dollars"..**.

_"Man, what the heck is in this thing, bricks?" Mike grunted, dropping rather than setting the trunk down._

"Careful! I'm hoping it's full of gold and jewels and lots of other valuable things," April, getting out her tools, replied with a grin. "But I'm guessing it's books, along with clothes. Anyway, there's hopefully something in there that can bring me a profit."

"If it's another four-armed statue," Mike teased as April set to work on opening the trunk, "ask for more than two dollars this time."

"I still don't believe that story, Mike."

The turtle shrugged.

"Leo's the one who told you about it, and you know Leo doesn't lie."

"Yeah, well Leo is also known to like a good joke as well as the rest of you," she responded, trying carefully to pop the lock on this battered trunk. Too bad the key was missing. Still, if she could manage it, she could replace the lock, polish it up and sell it for a nice price.

There was the satisfying "click" of success, and she got the steamer opened to reveal...

"Comics. MORE comics. Great." She thought of the bin she already had of comics that even Mike had no use for. Still, when one is in this business, one must not give up. "Hey, Mike! I'm going to go through these for OLD ones, but you want the rest?"

Mikey, sorting through one of the four boxes of miscellanea to help her out, glanced over his shoulder.

"Sure," he called. "Hey, if you find a first edition of 'Superman', my birthday's comin' up."

"Riiiight..."

Twenty minutes later, she was handing Mike a stack of comics, circa 1970s... he started sorting through a bunch of Marvel comics... smiling at the well-preserved ones, frowning at the damage done by some careless kid on a few others... counting the duplicates...

And there it was.

Mike felt his head get all funny. Carefully, he rubbed his eyes, and looked again.

"No... way..."

Quickly he glanced at April, who was organizing the old ones she'd collected (and sighing at the scarcity of anything really good), then back to this well-protected, valued by true collectors gem of a comic!

He'd seen a few offered for sale via ebay... the really good ones went for hundreds!

He carefully removed it from the sturdy bag... surely it must be a reprint... surely he was imaging it's worth...

Surely he was lying to himself! THIS was the REAL DEAL!

And April had given it to him...

Mike swallowed. Hard. Several times. Then he cleared his throat.

"Hey, Ape," he called, trying to sound cheerful. "You just handed me a comic that is worth more than what you spent today. A whole lot more!"

April looked up, disbelieving.

"No, those are just a bunch from the 70s," she said. "Nothing really special. I've got a bunch like those that never sell."

"No, you definitely do not have something like this," he sighed, and kneeling down beside her, he told her exactly what she had-- and what it could be worth.

And all the time, he wanted to hug it to his plastron and run for his life!

But he couldn't do that-- this was April! His bestest sister in the world!

Still...

"No! Seriously? No-- I can't believe it!" she said, smiling all over, thinking of the huge profit. "Can you imagine? I've always heard of things like this happening, but it's never happened to me!"

She chattered on more in this vein for a few more minutes, amazed at her luck.

And then she got a look at Mike's face. Mike was gazing at the cover through its plastic protection, running a very gentle finger ever so lightly over the image of Wolverine, not exactly drooling, but definitely not paying attention to what she was saying.

And she smiled.

"Nope. I gave it to you, Mike. It's yours to keep."

Mike blinked, eyes lighting up with such joy that it brought a lump to April's throat.

He, however, could not keep this. His honor forbid it! He insisted that she keep it; sell it! Make mucho dinero!

But April was adamant, even at the end of a ten minute "you keep it, no YOU keep it!" session.

"No," she said firmly and with finality. "You want it-- I can tell just by looking at you-- and NOT to sell, I can tell that as well," she added, gazing at him with a critical eye.

"But you could make a small fortune!"

April shrugged.

"Michelangelo, I gave it to you. I could have looked more carefully, but I doubt that I would have caught it anyway. If it wasn't for you I might have sold it for a dollar! Can you imagine? And besides, it'd just go to some geek who would lock it away and worship it-- until he could get a really high price for it. Nope-- YOU keep it! And that is final!"

"She gave it to me-- SHE could have sold it, but she knew I wanted it; knew how special it is to ME!"

_It will bring the money you need._

"But... Wolverine... snikt... Bub... first appearance..."

_But... Splinter... quilt... Christmas... one week away..._

"I-- I just don't know..."

_Cut the cord, Mike. Remember: your brothers are betting AGAINST you! But more importantly, This is for Splinter._

"I-- I gotta think--"

And he put the comic back in its place of honor, grabbed his chukkies, and headed to of all places the dojo.

Thirty minutes and an intensive workout later, Mike hit the shower, then headed into his room, carefully placed his comic in a sturdy bag, and headed out for Casey's.

_(To be continued)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Short chapter-- and NOW it's a four-parter. But I do not intend it to go past Part Four. Thanks for the kind words._

_Kyabetsu is practically a co-writer I've borrowed a few expressions of hers that she keeps putting in her emails to help me out! Anyway, Many thanks Kya!_

_"The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry is in the public domain. TMNT belong to Mirage and are NOT in the public domain._

"**The Gift of the Magi-angelo" Part Three**

_So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet._

_On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street._

_O. Henry_

"Lemme get this straight," Casey said-- for the fifth time. "Ya want me ta take this freakin' fantastic comic to a comic shop an' sell it for two hundred dollars."

Mike, exhibiting such patience as would have put Job to shame, carefully drew in a breath.

"No, I want you to take it to a reputable comic shop and sell it for nothing LESS than two hundred dollars."

Casey sat there, scratching his head, gazing at this unexpected request.

"Ya know you'd get more on eBay," he pointed out-- for the fourth time.

"I know," Mike replied, smile on his face and murder in his heart. "I know. Believe me, I know. But, as I so carefully explained to you-- repeatedly-- I really really need this money before Christmas. Like Yesterday."

Casey nodded thoughtfully, still looking at the carefully protected in its double layer of polyethylene first ever appearance of freaking Wolverine for God's sake Mike are you out of your mind comic. For a few moments he contemplated the mission before him.

"So... what yer sayin' is... ya want me to--"

"Casey I really need you to do this for me!" Mike nearly screamed, startling the older man. "I can't go to April! She's the one who gave it to me! And even if I did go to her, she'd offer to buy it! She'd buy it, and then give it back to me as a gift! You KNOW she would! You KNOW how she is!"

Casey blinked in surprise at the outburst. He'd rarely seen such emotion from Mikey. From Raph, yes-- but Mike?

"I'm sorry, Mike," he finally found his voice, as he looked at the heavily breathing turtle. "It's just I don't wanna do somethin' that you're gonna regret later! Tell ya what, let me LOAN ya the two hundred--"

If he thought the outburst before was something, he was surprised by what followed this generous, heartfelt offer. Raphael would have shed tears of pride at the hot language, the raw emotion, the popping vein in the forehead that was Michelangelo.

Though the part about "not having any hair to sell" made no sense to Casey-- but Mike, in full rant about "quilt" and "money" and "sacrifice" and "NO CHARITY", did not look like he would have cared to explain the follicle thing to him.

After several minutes Mike wound down, and Casey, partly in shock, partly in understanding, picked up the comic as carefully as it had been presented to him at the beginning of Mike's arrival.

"I'll do my best," he said quietly. "I promise. And I won't buy it myself. I promise that as well."

"And NO April!" Mike ordered, suddenly seeing in his mind the tall man going straight to her with this tale under the mistaken belief that he was doing Mike a favor.

"No April," Casey promised, getting his coat and hat. " 'Sides, we ain't exactly talkin' at the moment."

Mike nodded, muttering a thoughtless "good"... then his eyes lit up with yet another imagined scenario.

"And NO going to SENSEI!" he added sternly.

Casey managed to keep an innocent face.

"I swear, Mike. I'll do what you want," he said, and managed to get out of his apartment without further ado.

"Though it would have been the right thing ta do, goin' ta Splinter," he muttered, as he made his way to his bike. The weather was freezing and snowy, otherwise he'd have taken a trip up north to his favorite comic shop, and have enlisted the help of Steve. But unfortunately that trip would have been possible even in a warm car.

Meanwhile, Mike, alone in Casey's apartment, belatedly realized that he hadn't said a proper goodbye to the comic.

"Just as well," he said aloud with a deep, emotional sigh. "I'd of probably started crying, and then Casey would NEVER have agreed to help me..."

_He'd practically did cartwheels around the lair for WEEKS over that find. He drove his family crazy that first day when he'd come home with THE COMIC!_

_"It's MINE, it's MINE, it's ALL MINE!" he kept singing-- they'd heard him coming, his voice was so loud in his joy. Before they could rush out to investigate the noise, he was in the living area, dancing, singing, and waving something around-- carefully, but still..._

_"What's that?" Leo asked, trying to make sense of the entire spectacle. He reached out to relieve his brother of what he was holding-- and nearly was smacked down by Mike!_

_"NO NO NO!! Are you CRAZY!?" he shouted, his joy momentarily put on hold. "This is MINE! It's mine, and not yours, and only I can touch it!"_

_"But it looks like just a comic book," Don said, earning a HUGE look of Disdain for his comment._

_"This is not 'just a comic book'," he informed his brainy brother. "This is 'The Incredible Hulk' issue #181, with the very first ever appearance of WOLVERINE!"_

_Blank stares met this most Awesome News._

_Raph was the only one who seemed to understand._

_"No way! Well, c'mon then, let's get a look at it! I always wanted to read that one."_

_Mike flipped out as if his brother had suggested something shocking, like drowning kittens or marrying Karai._

_"This can't be opened HERE! And NO you can't touch it! You haven't washed your HANDS, and you don't have GLOVES! " Mike clutched the comic to his plastron protectively, careful not to damage it with crushing._

_"Jeeze, Mike, what's your problem?" Raph responded, up for a game of "Snatch the comic from Mike and run like hell. "It's a comic! "_

_"NOOO! It's worth HUNDREDS of dollars! Seriously, I thought you'd understand that," came the reply, and he held the comic up so he could look at it once again. "April could have sold it, but she gave it to ME! To ME, do you hear? NOT you, or Leo, or even Don-- not even to Casey!"_

_Splinter by now had entered the room, and he watched his son with some confusion._

_"Am I to understand that April has given you something valuable? You must return it at once."_

_"No, it's okay, Sensei," Mike assured his father. He told him of the event, and how April, despite his telling her the value of the comic, had insisted that he keep it. "She knows I won't sell it. And I swear, Sensei, I truly tried to get her to keep it to sell, but she insisted."_

_Splinter did not look happy, but though he shook his head in resignation, he said no more._

_"Well?" Raph prodded. "Are you gonna let us have a look at it?" And he reached out to take the comic._

_That wound up the turtle once again._

_"GET BACK!" he snapped a warning, leaping away from Raph as if he were escaping an enemy. "No one touches it but ME! Only I can handle it! It's awesome. You should see it... but from a distance. It's awesome and it's MINE, all MINE!"_

Mike felt a lump forming in his throat as he thought of the comic. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever owned, and he almost began to regret his decision.

But then he took out the picture of the finished quilt from his belt, and looked at it again. And he smiled a real smile.

It had been the right thing to do.

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It was quite the experience, shopping around this comic.

At the first store Casey went to, he was nearly mugged by the owner. He'd barely taken the comic from its sturdy, weatherproof carrying case than the owner came from behind his counter so quickly Casey immediately fell back a few steps and got into a defensive pose.

"I-- I'm sorry!" the man gasped. "It's just that-- ah-- I had a charley horse-- Yeah, a charley horse, and it took me by surprise, and I had to move quickly before I got all crippled up. Sooo... yer lookin' to sell this old comic, eh?"

"This ain't just 'some old comic'," Casey replied, already knowing how this was going to go down. And he wasn't far wrong.

After a long time of allowing the dude to carefully examine the comic in Casey's presence (_"Do NOT let anyone take it away from your sight!" Mike had warned. "You never know if they'll try to say it's damaged and show you a fake copy or something." "Aren't ya bein' just a little bit paranoid, Mike?"_), Casey was made the "more than generous" offer of one hundred twenty-seven dollars and fifty-three cents "plus store credit of two hundred seventy-six dollars and forty-seven cents".

Casey had presented his counter-price, nearly causing the man to have a mild stroke.

"Are you serious? I'm running a business here, not handing out charity!"

"I think that you could easily sell this on ebay for three times what I'm askin'," Casey replied.

After a few more minutes of even more ridiculous offers from the man, Casey took his card and said he'd be in touch.

Then he beat it out of there and headed for the next shop on his list.

Things didn't go much better there, either.

The clerk called in the manager, who called the owner, who nearly wrecked his car in the bad weather trying to get there so he could verify that this was what they said it was. The glow of their eyes told Casey that they, indeed, wanted to buy this-- but he could also see the wheels turning in their heads as they plotted to expend as LITTLE as possible to get this.

"I don't keep that much cash on hand," the owner lied. "And I just spent what little profit I made this month buying Christmas presents for my wife and seven little children... despite the fact that the oldest needs braces... and the dog is pregnant... and I still have the Christmas bonuses to somehow manage to pay my staff..."

"We're gettin' bonuses this year?" the skeptical voice of the clerk sealed the matter. Casey, with an "I'll be in touch after I talk ta my partner," left as quickly as he could.

"Jeeze... I wonder if Steve could recommend someone to me," he mused.

The next few places looked unpromising from the outside, and Casey didn't even try to go in.

And he was freezing his ass off-- the weather was threatening to become blizzard-like.

It was the sign in the window of the next shop that gave him some hope-- "visit our shop on eBay".

Casey entered, full of hope.

Twenty minutes later, he was shaking hands with the woman who was managing the store, and left for home.

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_She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company..._

_O. Henry_

Mike, in full disguise, made his way to the shop of the woman who had made the quilt for him.

The woman did not seem to think that his staying covered up unusual-- the weather was storming like crazy, and her shop, though not exactly an ice-box, was definitely not warm. She had been preparing to close up early when Mr. Hamato (as she had known him through his phone-calls, e-mail, and the woman who had brought in the first few payments) had appeared, plopping down the balance of the money-- all two hundred twenty-one dollars-- and breathlessly requested the quilt.

She displayed it for him to see before wrapping it up against the winter storm raging outside. She couldn't see much of his face, but she could see the tears glistening in his eyes as he barely touched the beautiful quilt with a mittened hand.

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," he said warmly. Then, as she prepared it for him to carry home, he dug out the rest of the money that Casey had managed to get for his comic, and offered it to her "As a token of my gratitude".

The woman blinked in surprise at the amount-- it was one hundred fifty dollars.

She shook her head.

"No, I can't accept that!" she firmly stated. "I have been more than compensated for my work!"

Mike kept trying to persuade her to take the money, but she refused steadfastly.

"I appreciate your gratitude, but I can not accept such a gift," she said, and that was that.

Mike bowed in resignation, then gathered up his gift for Splinter and, with one more bow, went out into the weather.

He felt bad-- he didn't want to keep any of the money from the comic-- he'd not sold it for profit, but for Splinter's gift. Yet Casey had gotten him a pretty good price considering, and had refused to keep the balance as Mike's thanks. Casey had suggested giving it to the woman.

But she, too, had refused the cash.

The tinkling of the bell came faintly. The turtle turned and saw the bell-ringer beginning to pack up as the storm began to grow worse.

Hurrying over, he shoved all the cash into the kettle, wished the ringer a "Merry Christmas", and then headed home as quickly as he could.

_(To be continued)_


	4. Chapter 4

_And now-- the final chapter. WARNING: Prolly full of sap. Extremely long. HOPEFULLY it's a satisfying conclusion. I started out to do a one-shot and the story started to grow. But I hope I didn't deviate from my original mission._

_Many extra Christmas wishes to Kyabetsu for all her help with "the Precious". I hope everything goes as you plan!_

_TMNT are the property of Mirage. The description of the display case comes from "usadisplay", a real place on the web. O. Henry is in the public domain, and I still remember my fifth-grade teacher reading it to us and crying as she read. I wish I could quilt._

"**The Gift of the Magi-angelo" Part Four**

_"When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task._

_Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically._

_"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?""_

_O. Henry_

Mike was in the kitchen, making dinner, when he overheard a careless comment from Don to Sensei.

"April says the display case has arrived."

Mike, pausing in his work, strained his specially trained Ninja hearing to eavesdrop, but Splinter's questioning reply was pitched low and soft as his normal voice usually was (unless he was reprimanding Michelangelo for some careless mistake in the dojo-- then he could make a sound like thunder!).

Don, on the other hand...

"Mike's going to love it."

_Display case? I'm going to love it?_

Mike went back to peeling potatoes in that quick and easy way of his that, when Raph would attempt to imitate it more potato than peel ended up in the sink, his brow furrowed in thought.

_Display case? Sensei's giving me a display case? To display what? My Battle Nexus trophy was destroyed by Karai. My medal, too._

For a few moments he shed a figurative tear for his two Greatest Proofs of being better than his bros. Stupid Karai-- he'd JUST gotten his room exactly the way he liked it. Ah well... shrugging, he went back to creating _Michelangelo's Mega-Fantastic and Unrivaled Anywhere on Earth Even Though it is His First Attempt at Ever Making It Shepherd's Pie©_. He'd puzzle it out later. But it seemed a disappointing sort of gift.

He'd been hoping for a Wii™...

As the potatoes cooked, Mike minced up the lamb (no ground beef for this recipe-- he was gonna wow everyone at dinner tonight-- even April would be impressed, and insist on his not repaying her for the groceries!), then tossed it in with his veggies and onion and garlic that were nice and sizzling in the skillet. As he prepared the gravy for flavoring, he found himself thinking again about what he'd heard.

_A display case? Sensei got me a display case? What have I got to display?_

Klunk strolled into the kitchen and began to beg some tasty raw lamb from his precious Mikey. As the cat purred and rubbed his body between Mike's legs in the time-honored cat dance of "feed me you love me meowmeowmeoooooowwww", the turtle kept thinking of what use he would have for such a gift.

_I mean, Karai and her army destroyed everything worth displaying he mused. I've been lucky enough to find replacements for my collections, but still-- I doubt anything I have is worth a--_

Mike suddenly realized exactly what he had that could be displayed--

Or rather, USED to have that could be displayed...

For a moment the cat and the cooking were forgotten in a brief and frightening vision of Christmas Day, where Splinter presented him with something he'd been wanting for some time, yet had always found reasons why he couldn't get it...

_"My son, allow me the honor of encasing your treasure in this humble--"_

"Yow! Sorry Klunk!"

The cat, impatient and miffed at being ignored, had done his cute little trick of standing up on his back legs, reaching up Mike's leg with his front ones, and digging in his claws as he stretched and looked cute.

Some raw lamb rewarded the cat, while the turtle, going back to his work, forced the vision from his head.

"Naw," he said with a shaky laugh. "I'm jumping to conclusions. I've got plenty of things that could be displayed. Like my action figures-- Sensei is always complaining about stepping on them whenever he has to go into my room to collect the laundry. Yeah, the action figures-- sure, it makes sense!"

_Right. Despite the fact that you've been going on forever about wanting to get something "Worthy" of the honor of displaying your precious comic in _came the annoying, evil inner-voice.

Mike resolvedly forced the voice into the black void of "Deliberate Ignorance" and went back to making the best damn night before Christmas Eve meal this family would ever in their lives taste.

And there it stayed, until, while taking out the beautiful picture-perfect and smelling delicious Shepherd's pie, he overheard Splinter say to April, "It is worth the sacrifice."

"Hey! Earth to Mikey!" Raph's voice startled him into realizing that he'd been standing there for a few minutes holding the casserole pan in both hands. "You meditatin' or somethin'?"

"Sorry," he managed to grin. "Just wanted to be sure it was finished."

Raph, in the middle of his mission to get the plates and silverware, cast a skeptical eye at Mike.

"Checkin' the food involves sayin' 'Oh, man, what am I gonna do?' over and over under yer breath?" Then he snorted out a laugh. "Lemme guess-- it's gonna taste awful 'cause you forgot somethin'."

Mike's pride snapped him away from his dread about the display case.

"I never forget anything! I'm an EXCELLENT cook, my good sir!"

"Never forget, eh?" Raph's voice was muffled as he reached into the cupboard for more plates. "Let's see... you tried to make Irish Stew but you didn't have all the right seasonings so you improvised and we all had the freakin' runs for a day. Then you tried to make that rum cake for Splinter's birthday-- No idea what you did there, but I thought Leo was gonna have ta cut it with his katana, it was so dense. I'm surprised the first slice didn't crack the plate! And we all had to eat it because Splinter didn't wanna hurt yer feelings."

"YOU had SECONDS of that!" Mike challenged.

"Yeah, only because Don bet me ten dollars I wouldn't," he smirked, his stack of dishes and silverware ready to be transported into the dining room. "Damn near lost a tooth, but I won the bet."

"Well, I'll bet you ten dollars that you'll be begging to finish eating up this masterpiece!" Mike haughtily replied.

"Nope," came the stinging reply. "I already got a bet goin' at the moment." And the big bad doo-doo head meanie Raph left the kitchen, laughing all the way.

Mike stood in thought, then shrugged.

"No. It's not worth ruining this masterpiece just to get back at my evil brother."

And he served dinner to the appreciative members of his family and his friends and his former best brother Raphael.

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Mike was a nervous wreck.

All through that dinner, and afterwards, and even into today (Christmas Eve) his imagination was working overtime, his dread was building.

Splinter could NOT find out about the comic! He just couldn't! That would ruin everything, make everything worthless! Splinter must not KNOW what Mike had done!

Casey swore and swore and swore that he would not say a word to anyone about what Mike had done to get the money for such a gift.

"Damn it Mikey, I'll kick yer sorry ass if you don't leave me the freakin' hell alone about yer secret!" Casey swore once more (along with some other words that would not be nice in a family Christmas story). Mike finally left him alone.

But he was dreading Christmas Day...

While "cleaning" Don's lab for him (i.e. getting ready to download some precious anime for later viewing), he saw that one of the computers had not been clicked off of the site the viewer had been at-- and what he'd seen convinced than ever that Doom awaited him tomorrow... his eyes began to swim as he read the description...

_The model 710 Comic Display Case**protects, displays** and **organizes **your complete and valuable collection... made of a revolutionary crystal**clear,** **soft**, lightweight plastic... **UNBREAKABLE...** will **protect from dust, damage **and** theft.**...Your favorite Comic is** HERMETICALLY SEALED **against the elements of destruction._

_**Model 710** is perfect for **"Silver Age"** size or smaller..._

Don had reached past the stunned turtle and closed out the window, but not before Mike had seen the old Fantastic Four comic being displayed in this wonderful case.

"Santa will put coal in your stocking if he catches you snooping," Don chided him, going about his business in his **own** lab.

Mike couldn't reply; his voice was too choked up with the knowledge that Splinter had gotten him something he'd been longing for, something that would make it possible to bring his precious comic out of its vault and into the light of his room for all to see and marvel at...

_I can fake it! I know I can!_

Mike, leaving the lab and plopping himself down in front of the bank of tvs, began to practice his "surprised and pleased beyond belief" reaction for tomorrow... as well as his possible responses to Splinter's "Let us see how it looks in the case".

_Gee, Sensei, thanks! I'm gonna use it for all my special comics, one at a time! Alphabetically! That means I'll start with 'Amazing Spiderman' first! 'Cause the title starts with "A"..._

_Isn't that title "THE Amazing Spiderman"? Unless you're referring to "**Adventures** in Reading starring the Amazing Spider-Man" _Don's practical sneer echoed in his imagination.

"Note to self; Don's got it coming to him. Okay, think, Mikester, think!"

_Dad! It's perfect! How did you know I wanted something like this to put my new issue of "Justice Force featuring Turtle Titan" in? It's sure to be a famous collectable..._

_Yeah, in about a hundred years!_ he could hear Raph snort.

"My list of paybacks needs overhauling," Mike mused, as Klunk joined his precious master on the couch, ready for some well-deserved attention.

_Oh, Sensei! It's just what I've been wanting! But let me try it out on my Silver Sentry issue one first. After all, he's going to be here for dinner, and I want to honor him._

Mike absently switched on the bank of tvs with one hand while scratching his Christmas kitty with the other, but his mind was on tomorrow. Splinter would buy that story, he was so big on honor and paying respect. Surely that ploy would work... yeah, he'd go with that one. It needed a bit more polish, but it would work!

_Does this sudden urge to "honor" Silver Sentry stem from how the other day you accidentally set loose the guy he'd just caught? _the Ghost of Leo pointing out a careless Turtle Titan action Past queried.

"Oh, Jim! My hair grows very fast!"

On the tv was the show that had started it all. The woman was admiring the combs that would have to wait until her hair was long enough for her to use.

"You've gotten me into a lot of trouble, baldy," he said, switching off the sets and, scooping up Klunkers, heading for his room, where he once again rewrapped the quilt, trying and trying with each change of paper to make it look even better than the previous incarnation.

At least it kept his mind off tomorrow.

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_Where is your comic? What do you mean, you sold it? Why would you do such a thing for a blanket? Yes, it is very beautiful, but have I not taught you four that the price is not what makes the gift special, it is the fact that it comes from my son? Surely Wal-Mart had something much cheaper---_

Mike woke up. By the light of the digital clock it was now four hours into Christmas Day.

"Stupid imagination! Stupid dreams!"

He got up and, with perfect Ninja stealth, ventured into the living area where the tree was set up. He still was having just a bit of difficulty in getting used to the space this place possessed. The old lair-- the first lair-- had been roomy to him as a kid, but as they'd grown it'd become snug and cozy. When they'd lost it, and found the newer place with all its room, Mike had felt that they'd moved from a tiny apartment into a mansion. There was so much space, and they'd finally all gotten their own rooms! NO brothers sharing a crowded area! NO Sensei sleeping close-by to know immediately when some wandering turtle tot was looking for a late-night snack because he was so hungry because he'd not eaten the healthy and filling meal provided at supper because it had contained the evil fried liver and the dreaded cooked carrots!

And then, when Karai and her army had completely and utterly destroyed it, Leo had managed to find them this place, and the space was amazing! It almost felt as if they were NOT living underground. And there were places on the upper level where actual sunlight was filtering in-- such a new experience for the sewer-dwelling Turtle.

Mike carefully put out the gifts for his brothers and friends, then worked hard to make sure that Splinter's gift was prominently yet tastefully displayed for all to see. He had pushed aside several gifts with his own name on them (everyone had, as usual, snuck out at one point to place the presents they were giving under the tree-- it had become sort of a tradition, each one trying to do so without getting caught by the others) in order to make room, but for once he didn't indulge in the age-old custom of shaking them, feeling them through the wrapper, and then finally trying to carefully unwrap just a tiny corner for a quick peek inside before someone busted him for doing so.

Back in his room, he shifted Klunk off of his pillow (where the cat had immediately settled once Mike had gotten up) and went back to sleep.

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"I'm surprised Mike isn't up first," Leo's voice filtered into the consciousness of the turtle in question. "He's usually the one waking us up with cries of 'Santa's been here!'"

Mike bolted out of bed, raced from his room, sprang over the railing rather than using the ladder, and landed in front of said brother.

"Merry Christmas!" he shouted, grabbing Fearless Leader and giving him a big old sloppy and noisy favorite brother kiss on the cheek.

"EWW! GET OFF!" Leo pushed him away, while Don and Raph laughed. Usually it was one of them to receive the "Traditional Mikey Christmas Kiss"-- Leo was very good about avoiding them each year.

"Yer slowin' down, Bro," Raph chuckled as Leo tried to wipe away the slobber. "He caught you good this year!"

Splinter emerged from the kitchen, tea for himself and Leonardo, hot cocoa for the other three on a tray.

"Merii Kurisumasu my sons," he greeted them, as Leo moved in to relieve his father of the tray. The other three bowed, returning the greeting, and then joining him as they sat down to drink the hot liquids before opening their gifts. Splinter had started that little "tradition" when they were about eight or nine and had gotten tired of finding hastily and poorly rewrapped presents under the tree. From then on, drinks first, then presents, and if anyone broke this rule, then the presents would be put away until after the New Year.

So far it had worked-- although there was that one time when someone had tried to make it look as if Raphael had broken the rule. Splinter, though he had no proof, was convinced it had been Michelangelo, but he did not punish him.

Instead, he had let Raphael handle it. Fortunately, no one had needed a Christmas spanking that day, but such tricks were never played again.

Then the gift-giving took place. Everything was going great! Mike got some new mangas from Leo, some art supplies from Raph (with the stipulation that they NOT be used in any way to piss off the giver or else **someone** was gonna be eatin' paint and drinkin' turpentine and I'm not kiddin' MIKE!), and some T-shirts with various superheroes on them from Don.

He immediately put on the one with Silver Sentry. After all, it didn't hurt to remind his partner in Crime Fighting how much he admired him...

Now Splinter was bringing forth the gifts he had gotten for his sons.

"I hope you do not think me foolish," he said to them all. "But this year I did go just a bit 'overboard'. However, I am so grateful that we are all together. Considering all we have been through, and how much we have lost, we still have our family. But I wanted to give you each something special."

_Oh, boy, here it comes. Let me be cool. Let me be cool._

"For you, Raphael, I have this." And the turtle accepted a bulky and evidently heavy gift from his father with a bow. "Donatello, here is your gift."

Don's was perfectly square. Sure to be something computerish Mike thought.

"Leonardo," The Rat said, handing another bulky gift to a son. Then he turned to Mike. Mike's mouth suddenly felt dry; his throat felt constricted, and he barely hid the trembling of his hands as he accepted...

_What the..._

It was small, flat, not very heavy. Rectangle in shape.

Almost... comic-book shaped...

"Thanks, Sensei!" Mike heard Leonardo say gratefully. Looking up, he saw that his brother was holding a display case. "The tanto the Ancient One gave me will look perfect in this! Thanks!" And he bowed to Splinter.

_Display case? The display case was for Leo?_

Again Mike looked at this thin, lightweight gift, and even more he was afraid. Had Splinter known? Had Casey told?

Had someone made his sacrifice meaningless??

For what else could this be but his comic-- the very comic he'd sold for Splinter's gift!

Suddenly the day seemed to be worthless.

"Thanks, Dad," came the cheerful voice of Raph, who was admiring his new tools. "I've been missin' my old ones. My bike needs a lot of work!"

"Domo Arigato, Sensei," Don was equally pleased with some items that were too complicated for Mike to make out but evidently had something to do with all the scientific stuff Don was usually engaged in.

Splinter eyed Mike expectantly. Mike swallowed. Hard. Several times.

Then he opened his gift and found...

"The Incredible Hulk" he said shakily-- then froze-- then continued-- "Issue #182," he finished. Then he blinked. Then he looked again. Issue #182-- One Hundred Eighty-TWO!!

The day had suddenly become special again.

"I know that it is not as 'valuable' as the one you already have," he heard Splinter say through the waves of relief that were washing over him, "but April says that it is of some worth, and I felt that it would be a good companion to your special comic. And I believe your Badger character is in it as well."

"Wolverine," Mike absently replied. Then he grinned at Splinter and gave him a hug. "Thanks, Dad! Thanks a lot!"

Then it was time to shower Splinter with gifts. From Leo, some writing instruments, for Splinter enjoyed caligraphy. From Raph, some books of poetry written in Japanese, for Splinter had lost all of his in the destruction of the last Lair. From Don, a new sake set (and April would be bringing the sake later-- she still insisted that, despite the fact the turtles were probably adults in turtle years, they were still TEENAGERS according to her), for Splinter enjoyed a nice hot cup of the drink on cold winter evenings.

Then the three evil brothers began speculating on the gigantic package that Mike presented to Splinter.

"Another air-mattress," whispered Raph to the others, and the snickering was muffled but audible.

"Let's hope this one doesn't play music like the last one," replied Don, and now Splinter's ears twitched in such a way that the three were warned to drop all speculation or there would be a special training session today.

Mike ignored them all.

"I had it made, Sensei," he said before the Rat could get it opened. "I wanted you to have something special. And practical. It gets so cold, you know. And you're-- um-- well, it gets so cold, you know."

Splinter unwrapped the quilt.

Silence reigned for several minutes.

The brilliant flash of the blue border, the colorful design of the Bishamon pattern dazzled them all-- and, as Mike helped to unfold the quilt to its full size, all eyes were drawn to the simplistic yet wonderful square in the middle of the Rat, poised on the God Daikoku's wealth-bestowing mallet.

"I figured that we've always had good fortune," Mike said, explaining the design. "We've always had a home, and we haven't starved, and we have each other. And next year's gonna be the best 'cause it's the Year of the Rat-- and you're a rat-- and..."

"Mike, is that supposed to be...?" Leo broke off, now seeing the patches in the corner.

"Yeah, that's Genbu! Only I had to draw what it should look like, 'cause there are no quilt blocks with the Black Tortoise anywhere to be found!" Mike enthusiastically explained. "Plus I made him more turtle-like, not tortoise-like..."

The figures in the corners were simple in design, yet there was a complexity about their execution that had the viewers marveling as they admired the skill of the quilt-maker. Even Michelangelo, who had designed the patches, felt admiration at the talent exhibited by the quilt-maker.

The turtle in the upper left-hand corner must have been Leo-- THERE Genbu and the snake were engaged in combat, as dictated by Bushido. Genbu wielded a mighty sword, a touch of blue in the handle peering between the black fingers, while the emerald and yellow snake that encircled him appeared ready to strike. But one could tell that the Black Turtle would be victorious.

Leo, gazing at the cloth picture, was sharply reminded of his battle with Lord Hebi (A/N: "The Real World Part One", TMNT 2K3 series)-- and after gazing at it with amazement, he turned his eyes to his brother, and quirked a smile.

"Took a bit of artistic license with the design, eh Mike?"

"Just a little," Mike winked back.

In the right-hand corner, Genbu, encircled yet again by the snake, was holding the creature's throat with one hand. His other was a fist, arm drawn back and ready to strike the fellow reptile right in his emerald green snout, all the while appearing to be cursing it out for being a snake-- definitely Raph.

Raph kept chuckling, as he gazed at the sight-- one "hand" gripping the snake, the other ready to strike. Though the faces of the Genbus were simplistic (like the Rat in the center), it was easy to see that this one was piling insult upon witty insult on the offending reptile.

Lower left-hand corner showed Genbu studying the snake that encircled him, while the snake's upper body seemed coiled in an almost question mark pose-- Don if ever there could be a doubt.

NOT that Genbu appeared helpless; as the onlookers gazed at the picture, they realized that the snake was pinned by one foot of the inquisitive Genbu; the Black Turtle suddenly took on the appearance of someone getting ready to deal with an enemy, but planning out the best way to do it.

Don wondered for a brief moment what type of snake it was, Boa or Python... then he smiled in self-deprecation, realizing that Mike had made a rather clever joke about his brother's "preoccupation" with KNOWING things.

"Good one, Mike," he said, and was rewarded with a huge grin from his baby bro.

And the lower right-hand corner?

Genbu was jumping rope with the snake.

Yes; jumping rope. What had appeared to be Genbu encircled as the others, was in fact the Black Turtle, gripping the snake somewhere in the middle of its length, and in the middle of a jump. Mike grinned as the laughter began to ripple around the room, enjoying the spectacle.

Genbu was grinning a Mikey grin-- and the snake looked either distressed or angry-- probably both. His tail was lashing at one end, head and upper neck area twisting at the other, his red snake tongue showing brightly on the cloth patch. Again, the simplistic renditions of their faces showed no great detail, and yet one could see the anger of the snake and the glee of the Black Turtle.

"Michelangelo."

Splinter's voice startled the others-- then they all began to laugh. It was true-- that HAD to be Mike.

The Rat touched each square, and for many moments he didn't speak. His whiskers twitched a LOT, and there was quite the sparkle of tears in his eyes even as the smile lit up his muzzle... Then he turned to Michelangelo and bowed his head in gratitude.

"My son," Splinter finally said, voice husky with emotion, but strong none the less. "I would greatly appreciate another cup of tea."

"No problemo, Sensei!" Mike happily sang out, disappearing to fulfill his father's request. He could tell that Dad was pleased-- and the knowledge that he'd brought such joy to his father filled the turtle with an indescribable joy that a million pristine copies of "The Incredible Hulk" issue #181 with the first ever appearance of Wolverine could NEVER have come close to...

Splinter, gazing with fixed attention at the gift, absently held up one hand.

"Pay up," was all he said.

Three turtles produced a handful of money and surrendered it without question or complaint to their father.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"... but Sensei-- where did Mike get the money for such a rich gift? Unless he did something--"

"Leonardo," came the stern reply. "It is not our business. Your brother is honorable. Whatever he did, he did honorably. Of that I am certain. Let us hear no more of this."

"But Sensei, you had April get him that display case especially for--"

"Leonardo," was all Splinter said, but Mike, overhearing, could not mistake the tone of finality in that simple utterance of his brother's name.

After a brief pause: "Hai, Sensei."

Mike, admiring his #182 issue of "The Incredible Hulk" with a very very very brief appearance by Wolverine encased in the special display case that kept it practically hermetically sealed, sighed happily. Sensei had not caught on. He had accepted Mike's story about not displaying the first one "Just yet" because he wanted to enjoy looking at his newest acquisition.

Sensei didn't suspect a thing-- and Mike was as happy as any teenager who had managed to put one over on his dad could feel.

"True Ninja, that's me," he said to Klunk, who was sleeping off the huge Christmas dinner he'd partaken of earlier.

It had been a successful and most satisfying Christmas ever.

Though a Wii™ would have been pretty sweet...

_"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."_

_The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children (**a/n: or rather, one foolish Turtle**) in a flat (**a/n: or abandoned pumping station, if you will**) who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures (**a/n: like issue #181 of "The Incredible Hulk" with the first ever appearance of WOLVERINE for Pete's sake!!!**) of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two (**a/n: no-- these THREE**) were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi._

_O. Henry, with a lot of interference from Cynlee_

_Merry Christmas to all!_


End file.
